


James Bond: Q's Favourite

by IBegToDreamAndDiffer



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Content, Randomness, Weirdness, and view Q as their supreme overlord, because he is, jealous!Bond, mild violence, seriously i have no idea what's going on, the minions be weird yet highly intelligent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-18
Updated: 2014-01-18
Packaged: 2018-01-09 03:27:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1140883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IBegToDreamAndDiffer/pseuds/IBegToDreamAndDiffer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How the double-ohs found out that James Bond is Q's favourite.</p>
            </blockquote>





	James Bond: Q's Favourite

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** James Bond belongs to Ian Fleming. I own nothing but the plot and make no money from this story.

**001**

  
  


001 was new. The one before him had retired- actually _retired_ , having reached the ripe old age of 39. Bond hadn't been very amused when he'd heard the minions- and the rest of MI6- joking about the former double-oh's age. Bond himself was already 42, though he still looked good, _thank you very much_. Q had pulled him aside to let him know that _he_ appreciated Bond's physicality. Thoroughly. Multiple times. Bond was still smiling, even three days later.

001 was blonde and cocky and all of twenty-eight, having passed all his tests, both medical and in the field, with flying colours. He smiled charmingly at anyone who looked his way, flirted with anyone he found sexy, and actually turned in his paperwork on time.

Bond hated him.

So did the minions. Just a little bit.

And Eve and Tanner. But that's only because they'd both been shipping 00Q since the two had met. Not that they said it out-loud. Everyone knew, anyway.

So it was with a swagger that 001 entered Q-Branch, smiling brightly at every minion he passed, and only feeling slightly perturbed when most of the minions gave him flat _you don't impress me_ looks in return.

Q was standing at a table to the side, tinkering with something that 001 couldn't make out. It looked like a mobile phone, only it was attached to the innards of a... laptop? And there was a bottle of pepper spray off to the side. Not good, but whatever; Q-Branch was just weird.

'Hey there,' 001 said when he reached Q and the three minions he was working with. Q didn't look up- didn't even blink- but the three minions all stared at him. 'Uh...' he cleared his throat when nobody said anything, 'so, I've got my equipment.' He dropped the comms and gun he'd taken with him onto the table, as well as the USB disguised as a tube of toothpaste. 'I like wine,' he joked.

'Excuse me?' the woman standing on Q's right- tall, red hair, would be 001's type if the Quartermaster wasn't there- demanded.

'I like wine,' 001 repeated with a wide smile, 'you know, as a thank you present.'

'And should I be thanking you for bringing back your equipment?' Q finally spoke. He still didn't look up.

'Uh, _yes_ ,' 001 said, like thinking anything else was just plain _silly_. 'We double-ohs are notorious for not bring back our equipment, after all.'

'Maybe some of you,' Q sniffed. '003 _always_ brings back her equipment. As does 002, 004, and 008.' He paused for a second to push his glasses up his nose before adding, 'Should I be concerned that all the female double-ohs know how to treat their equipment, and none of the men do?'

'Well, _I_ do,' 001 told him. 'See?' He pushed the small box containing his comms a bit closer, disturbing some of the papers strewn beside Q, as well as a Q-tablet; Q-Branch had _way_ too much time on their hands, 001 thought. They'd even designed their own mobile phone and were trying to outfit every agent and MI6 employee with one. _Taking over the world, one agent at a time_ , 006 always joked.

Q froze for maybe three, four seconds- 001 counted- before he carefully reached out with his left hand. Rather than take the box, like 001 had expected, he pushed the comms aside, straightened his papers and Q-tablet, and went back to whatever he was doing with the mobile/computer/pepper spray _thing_.

001 frowned, but didn't let it faze him. He just cleared his throat and sat right on the table, legs crossed at the ankle, and tapped at the stainless steel beneath his fingers. 'So-'

'Could you please get off the table?' one of the minions- this one also a woman- asked. Well, _demanded_ , but 001 chose to ignore the tone.

'Am I bothering anyone?' 001 asked.

'You're bothering Q,' the male minion said.

'He doesn't look-'

'Please get off the table,' Q interrupted, and 001 hurried to obey. The three minions snickered, but again 001 chose again to them. Stupid little gits, anyway.

'Not gonna ask how my mission was?' he said instead, changing the subject.

'You're alive, nobody from medical called to say that they required your presence, and no minion came running to me to complain,' Q said, his voice even, tone dry. 'So I take it it went well.'

' _Very_ well,' 001 said, giving his trademark cocky smile. He'd had to bed the son of a French criminal- almost terrorist- to get the information he'd needed, and it had been one of _the_ best nights of 001's life. The guy had been thin, young-looking, with messy brown hair and green eyes.

'Marvellous,' Q drawled.

And that was it. No _tell me everything_ or _did you get into any trouble._ Not even a look!

001 had been told that the double-ohs weren't Q's favourite agents to work with, but he hadn't expected this level of... indifference. Oh, Q cared about their well-being, and always did his absolute best to outfit them, get them through their missions, and get them safely home. But he was absolutely immune to 001's charms, and quite frankly it was starting to piss the agent off. He was just looking for a little fun, a little roll in the hay. Didn't Q ever sleep or unwind?

Maybe he was one of those, what were they called... asexuals! Maybe he just wasn't interested in sex. Well, that explained why he always looked so annoyed by 001's advances. Yeah, that must be it.

001 was about to cut his losses- maybe ask Q out for a drink before leaving when the other man no doubt turned him down- when there was a commotion from across the room. 001- and all the minions- turned to see James Bond, aka 007, storming through Q-branch, a woman in pink scrubs chasing after him.

' _Really_ , Bond, there's a time and place!' the nurse snapped.

'And now's the time, as well as the place,' Bond retorted.

Q sighed; 001 heard it, even over the shouting.

'You're injured!' the nurse grabbed Bond's arm.

Bond deftly evaded her and threw a wink at the woman, who's scowl darkened. 'Yes, I'll be with you in a moment.'

'Causing trouble, 007?' Q questioned.

001 turned, and his eyes narrowed when he saw that Q had _actually_ looked up. Not only that, but he'd turned away from his work! He'd set his tools down, leaned against the table, and folded his arms to observe Bond.

Bond, the bastard, grinned charmingly at the young Quartermaster. 'As always,' he said before producing a small, slightly singed box, and brandishing it at Q. 'I brought my comms.'

'Mm-hmm,' Q hummed, but accepted the box. 'And your gun?'

Bond's grin widened. 'Well, see, there was a seal, and a dolphin, and this tourist had the _exact_ same suit jacket as me, and-'

'Excuses, excuses,' Q tisked, poking Bond in the chest with the box. 'If once, _just once_ , you'd bring your gun back, I'd treat you to dinner.'

'Oh, really?' Bond asked, blonde eyebrows wiggling.

'Mm-hmm,' Q repeated.

001 felt his blood boil. Bond would get dinner for a _gun_? 001 had brought back _his_ gun!

'What do I have to bring back to get a drink?' Bond asked. He approached Q and got into the other man's space, and the minions just _smiled_ , while 001 had got angry snapping. 'Or what about a few seconds of flirting?'

Q grinned- a bright gesture that made him seem like a teenager, rather than a man in his late twenties- and poked Bond in the chest again. 'Flirting? You need to bring back your comms. Which you did, hence the poking and smiling I'm currently doing. Drinks? Well, they're included in dinner, I'm afraid.'

'I see,' Bond hummed. He tilted his head, regarding Q, before asking, 'What about an entire night?'

'Oh, an _entire night_?' Q asked, while 001's mouth dropped open. What the fuck was going on? Q leaned closer, his lips almost fucking _brushing_ Bond's, and said, 'Come back uninjured, and I'll give you an _entire night_ at my place.' With that he winked, turned on the spot, and dismissed Bond without saying a word.

Bond just laughed and took a step back, right up to the nurse, who grabbed him by his torn jacket and dragged him away. Walking backwards, Bond called, 'I'll hold you too that, dear Q!'

'I know you will!' Q retorted, grinning at the table.

The minions went back to work after Bond had disappeared, and 001 remained where he was, speechless, trying to figure out if Q and 007 were shagging yet or if he still had a shot. Not that he thought he couldn't get Q even _with_ 007 in the way, but even the other double-ohs were wary of Bond. The man was just plain scary.

'You can go,' Q said, and it was clear that he was speaking to 001, because his tone was flat once more. 'I'll read your report later and see you for your next mission.'

'Er... right,' 001 cleared his throat and slunk away, tail between his legs. He was followed by R, the only woman 001 knew the name of, who told him to head to M's office because he was in trouble over the wording used in his report. 'Why the hell does _Bond_ get eye-contact?' he huffed when he left Q-branch, rounding on R, who was still in the doorway.

R blinked at him, then let one of her jet-black eyebrows rise. 'Are you actually asking for an answer?'

'Yes!' 001 snapped. Because seriously, _what the fuck was all that about?_

'007 is Q's favourite,' R said. And with that, she shut the door in 001's face.

  
  


  
  


**009**

  
  


'Honestly, do you lot need help tying your shoes in the morning?' Q demanded. 'Are you allowed in the bathroom without supervision? Do you know how to work the stove without burning your flat down? Or do you need someone to hold your hand?'

'Er...' 009 hummed, 'well, I see international missions as being a _bit_ trickier than making soup.'

'Oh, you do, do you?' Q demanded. Clearly not actually asking for a response, 009 just nodded. He was used to getting scolded- his fellow double-ohs were, too- and it was best to let Q rant and rave. Everything went quicker that way. 'Because it doesn't seem like it!' Q shouted, like 009 had expected. The man just nodded again.

 _Let him yell,_ 006 had told them all, _he gets all his frustration out, and you get to go home earlier. If you fight him, he'll keep you there for hours and probably schedule an evaluation with Psych. And we all know how demented_ that lot _are._

'I give you one- _one_ \- instruction, Walden!' Q continued to fume. ' _Bring back the prototype_. And what did you do?'

'I didn't bring back the prototype,' 009 said.

'You _didn't_ bring back the prototype!' Q echoed. 'No, instead you left it on the bloody aeroplane! Do you know how long it'll take the minions to track it down? Weeks, maybe _months_! And that's if the stewards didn't just bloody throw it away! _Thousands_ of pounds of technology _gone_ because _you_ wanted to beat traffic!'

He groaned and fell to sit in the chair behind the main desk in Q-branch. His Scrabble mug of tea was beside him, half empty, as well as an opened package of biscuits. Q scowled at them.

'Cold tea,' he complained, 'crappy biscuits, and _no prototype_!'

009 wanted to apologise- he felt like a little boy getting scolded by his mum- but wisely refrained from talking. It wouldn't help. _Let Q get it out of his system_.

'I hate you all,' Q declared.

'No you don't,' R quipped, appearing at Q's side like the ninja she was. She plucked Q's mug from the table, handed it to a waiting minion, and nudged the biscuits towards Q. 'Eat up.'

'Don't wanna,' Q pouted. Honest to Her Majesty _pouted_. Q was adorable, all the double-ohs agreed. Which was why they actually felt bad about losing tech. But, well... they _were_ double-ohs.

'Pouting, Q?'

Q looked up, and 009 turned. James Bond was wearing jeans and a sweater, which was a bit weird, but 009 had seen him half-naked and covered in blood, so he wasn't too disturbed.

'And what are _you_ doing here?' Q demanded.

'Do I need a reason, dear Quartermaster?' Bond asked.

'Yes,' Q said. 'Because you're on medical leave for the next two weeks. Or did you want me to call Nurse Gilda?'

Bond and 009 both shivered. Nurse Gilda was all of 5”3, blonde-haired and bright-blue eyed, and she was _mean_. She was scary and knew how to use a needle. She wasn't afraid to drug agents in the middle of headquarters, either, using security to drag their unconscious body to medical (007, 006, _and_ 004 had all found that out the hard way). She was also dating 003, so... yup, just very scary.

'No, I just came in to drop off lunch,' Bond said and held up the plastic bag 009 had noticed him carrying

009's eyebrows went up- mirrored by Q.

'And what's in the bag?' he asked.

'Nice, fat-filled food,' Bond told him. He walked past 009, giving his fellow agent a nod, and dumped the bag on Q's desk.

Q narrowed his eyes. 'What kind of fat-filled food?' he asked.

'Fish and chips from that place we went to last month,' Bond said, 'as well as a salad and pudding for dessert. Also, a bottle of Coke.'

'Ooh,' Q hummed and leaned forward. He dragged the bag towards himself and grinned when he opened it. 'Thank you,' he said, beaming at Bond, who smiled back.

 _Okay..._ 009 thought. Could he leave now?

'So, am I forgiven?' Bond asked.

Q immediately scowled. 'No.'

'Come _on_ ,' Bond sighed. 'It was just a laptop.'

' _Just_ a laptop?' Q demanded. 'No, 007, it was a laptop with built-in saws. It was a laptop with thousands of pounds of technology. It was a laptop-'

'That you rebuilt in three days, giving you something to do when there was a lull in missions,' Bond interrupted. Q pouted. 'Admit it; you were glad for the work.'

'Wasn't,' Q sniffed.

'So say thank you,' Bond said.

'Shan't,' Q huffed.

'You're welcome,' Bond chuckled and turned, walking away.

'I'm not thankful for the extra work!' Q called after him.

'But you are for lunch!' Bond called back.

'Yes, well...' Q grumbled and ripped open the newspaper his fish and chips had come in. It was oily, and salty, and made 009 hungry.

'So,' 009 cleared his throat.

'Oh,' Q jolted, as though he'd forgotten 009 was there. 'Yes, well, off you go, then. I'll see you next time.'

'Thank you,' 009 said and turned on his heels, quick to make his escape. As he walked, he wondered what kind of food he'd have to bring to get Q to forgive _him_ that easily. Then again, Q probably wouldn't be that lenient if _009_ haddestroyed a laptop. Bond was just Q's favourite, the lucky bastard.

  
  


  
  


**008**

  
  


'No.'

'Come on, Q.'

'No.'

'Just do it for me.'

'No.'

'Please?'

'… no.'

008 whined and dropped her entire upper body onto Q's desk. Q gave her a thoroughly unimpressed look and sipped his tea.

'Please?' the agent tried again.

'I'm not hacking into Medical to find out where Nurse Brendan lives,' Q said.

'Why not?' 008 demanded.

'Because it's creepy,' Q told her, 'and a breech of ethics, not to mention security. Also, I don't make a habit of hacking into the files of MI6 employees.'

' _Sure_ you don't,' 008 said, but sighed. She picked herself up and rested her elbows on the table, her chin on her folded hands, instead of lounging about. 'Are you sure there's _nothing_ I can do?' she questioned. 'Bring back more equipment? Buy you sweets? Threaten 005 so he stays away?'

Q snorted.

'Anything?' 008 repeated.

Q held his arms wide, Scrabble mug held above his head, and stated, 'I cannot be bribed.'

'Q!'

Q jolted and 008 turned to see Bond rush into the room. The door closed with a _hiss_ behind him and the blonde flattened himself against the wall, like he was trying to make himself a smaller target.

'Can I help you, Bond?' Q asked with an arched eyebrow.

'Hide me!' Bond begged.

'From who?' Q asked.

'Eve,' Bond said. 'I _maybe_ hurt her desk.'

'Maybe or _did_?' Q asked.

'Did,' Bond admitted.

'How?'

'I dropped my knife, it embedded itself in her desk, and Eve tried to embed it in me,' Bond relayed. 'Now please, hide me until she cools down. Apparently it was a brand new desk and the nick is going to annoy her when she types.'

Q just stared. 008 did, too. Bond had always been odd.

'I'll buy you those chocolates you fancy,' Bond tried. Q's eyebrow went back up. 008 almost laughed out-loud. Q couldn't be bribed. 'And that new jumper you wanted.'

Q's other eyebrow joined the first.

'And an entire bloody box of Earl Grey tea.'

Poor Bond.

'As well as that chilli-cheese pizza you're so fond of... for lunch... every second day!'

'Okay,' Q agreed.

008 almost fell off her chair. _What?_

'Over here,' Q called. He stood and moved the pot plant to his right aside- poor thing was dying, who the hell had bought Q a _plant_?- as well as a filing cabinet with Bond's help. Bond grinned brightly at Q and ducked down behind it, Q only moving a few things until Bond was hidden from sight.

Q had just sat back down when Eve stormed into the office.

'Right,' she said, 'where is he?'

'Bond?' Q questioned. 'You're chasing him, aren't you? He was yelling about desks and knives.'

'Where is he?' Eve asked again.

'He was annoying me so I sent him to the roof,' Q lied easily, 'I said I'd tell you he went to the car park if you came calling. He might have known I'd tell you, so check the car park, too.'

Eve clasped her hands together, said, 'Bless you, Q,' and left the office as promptly as she'd arrived.

There was dead silence for ten, maybe twenty seconds, before Bond came out of hiding. He brushed a dead leaf from his suit jacket and gave Q a dazzling smile. 'You are my sunshine, Q,' he informed the younger man.

'Indeed,' Q smirked. 'I'll take a chilli-cheese pizza in one hour and three minutes precisely. It should be delivered with my new jumper as well as a drink. Oh, and be a dear and get olives on the pizza, would you?'

Q regarded Bond over his mug, eyebrows up.

'Yes, dear,' Bond said. He looked at 008, threw his fellow agent a wink, and briskly walked out.

008 immediately rounded on the Quartermaster. 'I'll buy you chocolate, a new jumper, an entire _crate_ of Earl Grey, and pizza _every bloody day_ if you hack into medical for me.'

Q regarded her. Cocked his head. Sipped his tea.

'No,' he said.

008 groaned.

  
  


  
  


**002**

  
  


'This,' Q decided, 'is disgusting.'

002 huffed and folded her arms. 'I tried,' he said. 'Do I get a point for trying?'

'Hmm,' Q hummed. 'I might have to take off points for what you did. This has no right to even be _called_ tea. What did you do to it? Poor tea leaves.'

The minions snickered and 002 glared at them. They were all wearing matching shirts today; polo shirts a light blue colour, with a number stencilled on the right breast. _Weirdos_.

'He doesn't like any of our tea,' the one with #12 written on his shirt said

'Except R's,' #32 told her.

'And we think that's why Q made her R,' #03 informed the agent.

'I see,' 002 sighed. 'So making tea is not in my skill set.'

'Oh, it's probably lovely tea,' #03 said, 'Q's just picky.'

'Watch it,' Q mock-scowled.

'Sorry, Overlord,' #03 grinned cheekily.

 _Weirdos_ , 002 repeated firmly in her head.

Suddenly a mug was being placed at Q's elbow- a Scrabble mug, with a big black Q on the side. 002 looked up to see Bond- and was _pissed_ to realise that the other agent had, once again, managed to sneak up on her. Bond was smiling, and looking a wee bit smug. He nodded at the mug.

'Go on,' he said.

Q rolled his eyes but obediently picked up the mug, and 002- as well as half the minions- watched with rapt attention as Q sipped the tea. It was a bit of a competition, in Q-branch; see who could make the best tea for the Quartermaster. R was way in the lead. Which was probably why she was R. Tanner was a close second.

Q rolled the liquid over his tongue, hummed a bit, and put the mug back down. Adjusting his glasses, Q said, 'Very nice.'

Bond threw up his hands, as though people were cheering for him, and 002 scowled while the minions just snickered and went back to work.

'Why does he get a _very nice_ and my tea doesn't even get to be called tea?' 002 demanded.

Q blinked at her. 'Because Bond's tea _is_ tea and yours isn't.'

'You lose, Chan,' Bond said smugly.

'Bite me, Bond,' 002 retorted.

'Sorry, I have no interest in biting _anyone_ ,' Bond quipped. 002 heard the “not anyone but...” that should have been on the end there. She frowned, eyed Bond, and started when Bond brushed his fingers over Q's neck. The younger man shivered and leaned forward, pulling himself away from the older man.

'Right, work to be done, so let's all hop to it!' he ordered.

'We _are_ working, your Evil Lordiness!' one of the minions called.

'Shut it!' Q snapped.

'Yes, Evil Lordiness, sir!' more than four minions shouted back.

They giggled amongst themselves and Bond laughed quietly, while Q scowled at his computer.

'I'll see you later,' Bond said.

Q just grunted, completely ignoring the other man. 002 stared.

Well, _that_ was interesting. She wondered if any of the other double-ohs knew...

  
  


  
  


**004**

  
  


She found Q in R&D. Well, she found Q in the gun range/explosives area of R&D. While MI6 had a very nice indoor gun-range, Q-branch had built its own to test their more... explosive and _dangerous_ guns.

Q was bent over a gun that was a little bigger than your standard handgun, a little smaller than any machine gun 004 knew of. He had a clipboard to his right, as well as a Q-tablet, and protective gear that included goggles, earplugs, and... gloves?

'What's that?' 004 asked as she popped up behind him.

A few months ago Q would have leapt out of his skin. These days he just jolted a bit and turned a scowl on her. 004 grinned. 'Can I help you, Ms Carter?'

'Can I have a go?' 004 asked, nodding at the gun.

'No,' Q told her, putting his pen aside. 'It's still going through testing.'

'Oh, come on,' 004 said.

'No,' Q repeated.

004 sighed and tilted her head, giving Q her very best pout. It didn't work.

'What can I help you with?' Q asked after clearing his throat, eyes back on the reports before him.

'I went to give my equipment back, the minions said you were down here, and I'm bored,' 004 told him. She looked back at the gun. 'Are you sure-'

'Quite.'

'But could I just-'

'No.'

'Not even a-'

' _No_ ,' Q stated, rather firmly. 004 liked when Q got annoyed; it was adorable.

'Okay, fine,' she sighed. 'But can I stay and watch? I'm bored.'

Q paused before, 'Very well.'

004 almost clapped her hands together like a small child, but she was a double-oh, thank you very much, so refrained and just sat back. She watched Q test the gun- and _whoa_ , she totally wanted one, those were awesome- as well as a few other gadgets. At least three hours passed and Q didn't say a word; just tested the weapons, made notes, tested them some more, made more notes, so on and so forth.

He didn't even take a break, not until the mouth-watering scent of really spicy curry reached both 004 and Q, making them turn.

Q's face softened when he saw that it was Bond- and 004 thought about what 002 had told her two weeks previously.

'No food's allowed in R&D,' Q informed the agent, like he _didn't_ know. Bond just tended to ignore every rule he was told. 'Unless it's explosive, of course.'

'Well, curry makes you explode,' Bond grinned cheekily.

004 poked her tongue out and Q rolled his eyes. 'Clever, 007, and also very disgusting.'

'I do try,' Bond chuckled. He set the bag down on one of the tables by the back wall and leaned against the wall. 'Are you going to take a break?'

'Yes, hello, James!' 004 called, making Bond laugh again. 'Nice to see you, too. No, I didn't die in Papua New Guinea last month.'

'Yes, hello, Angelina,' Bond replied. 'And I gathered that you hadn't died, seeing as how you're sitting there.' He raised his eyebrows and turned back to Q. 'Unless Q-branch is dabbling in robotics?'

'Of course we are,' Q waved a dismissive hand, 'but why on Earth would we build double-oh agents? Flesh and blood ones are difficult enough to deal with.'

004 pouted, and Bond said, 'But you love us.'

'Mm, yes,' Q hummed, 'keep telling yourself that.'

Bond winked at Q, but the other man just turned back to his tests.

'Q, you need to eat,' Bond said. He pushed himself off the wall and strolled over to Q, hands now tucked into his trouser pockets.

'I'll eat when I'm done,' Q huffed.

'Wouldn't it be easier to have one minion firing, while you take down notes?' Bond questioned. 'Or you firing and a minion taking down notes?'

'No,' Q retorted. 'Not all of them are proficient with fire arms.'

'I am,' Bond said.

'And that's relevant, because...?'

Bond pressed himself against the younger man's back, apparently not caring that 004 was there (the agent in question was leaning so far out of her chair she was about to fall right over).

'You need to eat, Q,' Bond repeated, his voice a husky purr. 004 felt herself shiver, and she wasn't even _that_ attracted to Bond. Poor Q. 'I'll make it worth your while if I can help,' Bond said.

Scratch that; _lucky Q_.

Q muttered something too low for 004 to hear.

'I promise,' Bond said.

'Okay,' Q said.

 _WHAT?!_ 004 wanted to scream, and shout, and throw things. But Q and Bond were still pressed against each other- Q now looking at Bond, and _damn_ could he do the whole “smouldering eyes” thing really well- and 002's words were still ringing in 004's ears.

Bond finally stepped away from Q, only going as far as the equipment closet to get some goggles, earplugs, and gloves. He wandered back over to Q, ignoring 004, and started asking about the weapon.

Well okay then... 004 slowly slid from her chair and across the room. She passed the curry and paused. Grabbing the bag, 004 quickly backed out of the room, but the two men were ignoring her completely. 004 grinned as she left, taking a whiff of her new lunch.

_Mm, curry. Thank you, 007._

  
  


  
  


**005**

  
  


The minions had been expecting this, so they were able to call Q before things got _too_ out of hand.

It started like this;

005 stalked right up to 007, who was lounging around in Q-branch like he always did, and near-shouted, 'Why the fuck will he flirt with _you_ and not me?'

And Bond, of course, had reacted like this;

He grabbed 005 by the throat and slammed him into the wall.

'Panic stations, people!' minion #1 shouted. 'Operation “Don't Let Bond Kill 005 Because M Would Be Cross” is ago!'

'The bloody operation name's too long!' minion #28 growled.

'And we already told you at the meeting, _we don't care_!' minion #3 snapped back.

The minions rushed about, three going to Q's office where he'd been stuck in a meeting with R, Tanner, and Eve for the past hour. Bond still had 005 pinned to the wall, and for all his training the younger agent couldn't break free.

By the time Q's office had emptied, Bond was reaching for his gun.

'JAMES!' Q shouted.

Bond immediately let 005 go, stepped back, and raised his hands. 'I didn't do anything!'

'Were you or were you not about to kill 005?' Q demanded as he stalked across Q-branch. Tanner, Eve, R (and all the minions) watched.

'Maybe,' Bond admitted, slightly apologetic. Only slightly. He really did hate 005.

'I thought so,' Q sighed. He stopped before Bond- 005 was on the floor, rubbing his neck- and stared at the blonde. 'What have I told you?'

'That M would be annoyed if I murdered a fellow double-oh agent,' Bond muttered. Q had made Bond memorise the sentence countless times.

'And?' Q asked.

'Blood is hard to clean off of white floors,' Bond recited.

'And?' Q demanded, arms folded.

Bond huffed and looked away.

Q punched him in the stomach.

'Ow!' Bond whined.

'AND?!' Q shouted.

'And I shouldn't murder people whilst not on a mission or in danger!' Bond scowled.

'Exactly,' Q nodded. 'Also, as I've _told you countless times_ , 005 can flirt all he wants, but I'm not interested.'

'Why?' 005 demanded from where he was still on the floor, and the minions- as well as R, Tanner, and Eve- all shook their heads.

Q turned to glare at the man. 'Firstly, you're _not my type_ ,' Q said, which was partially a lie. 005 certainly looked like a much, much younger version of who Q was dating, but he was an annoying wanker. Then again, Q's current boyfriend could be a wanker, too. 'Second,' Q said, ' _I have a boyfriend_.'

005's mouth dropped open. 'What?'

Q rolled his eyes and pushed his glasses back up. 'As I've told you, countless times, I'm currently in a very committed relationship with another man. No, I will not cheat on him. No, our relationship is _not open_. And no, I am not going to break up with him to have a casual fuck with you, because I'm- let's repeat it, shall we?- _not interested_!'

With that, Q turned his eyes back on Bond, who looked torn between arousal and fear. He was a double-oh for a reason, the minions thought.

'Apologise for scaring my minions,' Q ordered.

'Sorry, minions,' Bond said obediently.

'That's okay!' minion #3 shouted. The others snickered.

'Good,' Q nodded. 'Now, I'm going back to my meeting. 005 is leaving, the minions are going back to work, and _you_ are sitting in the corner.'

'The corner?' Bond whined.

Q, unimpressed, just pointed.

Bond sighed but leaned forward to steal a kiss. 'You're lucky I love you,' Bond said. And with that he turned and headed for the corner, where a stool was already waiting. He sat, back to the wall, and folded his arms.

'Good,' Q nodded. He looked at 005. 'Leave,' he ordered. Then his eyes went to the minions. They didn't need a verbal order; all of them rushed back to their desks or what they were doing before. 'Very good,' Q said and made his way back to his office.

'You're sexy when you get all dominant,' Eve wiggled her eyebrows at him.

Tanner rolled his eyes.

'Thank you, Moneypants,' Q grinned, disappearing into his office.

005 slowly picked himself up and scampered away. The minions snickered as he went.

  
  


  
  


**003**

  
  


'I don't believe this.'

Q and Bond both looked up. 'Believe what?' Q asked.

'It's all true,' 003 sighed, leaning against the door frame. She'd found Q and Bond in R&D, whooping like little children. On the table between them was a tray, and laid out on the tray was an array of pens; ballpoints, gel pens, fountain pens, even what looked like a _quill_.

'What's true?' Bond asked.

003 shook her head and walked further into the room. The two men stared at her. 003 stopped before them. 'Bond really is your favourite,' she said.

'Excuse me?' Q demanded. 'How is 007 my favourite?'

'Well, unless I'm mistaken,' 003 hummed, 'you've actually made him an exploding pen.'

'No, I haven't,' Q sniffed.

'So what do those do, then?' 003 asked.

'Er...' Q deflated somewhat, his fingers twitching in his lap. 'Well, uh... that one shoots a poison dart, that one a small bug that messes with electronics, that one I'm hoping will one day disable an entire car, and _that_ one sends a, uh... projectile.'

'A projectile?' 003 asked. Q nodded. 'And what does that projectile do?'

Q and Bond shared a look before the former mumbled, 'Only a small explosive.'

'So an exploding pen.'

'No!' Q denied. 'If anything, it's an exploding nib.'

003 blinked. 'Nib?'

'The end of the pen,' Q said, 'you know, the bit you write with? Where the ink comes out?'

'It's called a _nib_?' 003 snickered.

'Yes, yes, let's all act lie three-year-olds,' Q rolled his eyes.

'Um, excuse me,' 003 held a hand up, 'but _you_ arethe ones laughing like children as you blow things up.'

Q pouted. _Adorable bugger_ , 003 thought fondly.

She shook that thought away and looked at Q.

'It's only a _small_ exploding pen,' he mumbled.

'Which proves that 007's your favourite,' 003 said.

'Well, it... I don't... it's not like I treat him any differently!' Q defended himself.

'Besides making him exploding pens, of course,' 003 said.

Q frowned.

'And for your silence on the matter,' Bond finally spoke up, drawing her attention,'what would _you_ like?'

'Hmm...' 003 tapped her chin, giving it some thought. What _would_ she like? 'Lipstick that actually eats through things, like rope, steel, and people,' she finally said.

Q blinked. 'Really?' 003 nodded. 'O... kay...' he murmured, 'I... think I can make that?' he ventured. 003 scowled. 'I _will_ make that,' he corrected.

003 smiled and patted him on the cheek. 'Very good,' she said. 'Now, as you were,' she added and left, Q and Bond watching her go.

As she stepped out the door, she heard Q grumble, 'This is _your_ fault.'

'I'm the one topping for the next month, I think that more than makes up for having to make corrosive lipstick,' Bond retorted.

003 grinned. Life was good.

  
  


  
  


**006**

  
  


Alec had been away for six months. It was one of the longest missions he'd even been on, and quite frankly he was happy to be home. He didn't normally think that way, but he was looking forward to sleeping in a nice bed, having access to a shower, and drinking beer.

Which was why he needed his drinking buddy. Nurse Gilda in medical had told him that James was home on medical leave _again_ and wouldn't be leaving the country for six weeks. Something about a gunshot wound to the thigh, and a bruised rib, and _blah, blah, blah_ , Alec had stopped listening after that.

Bond wasn't answering his mobile, meaning he was probably skulking around Q-branch either flirting with Q, leering at him, or making sure that nobody moved in on what was his. He'd been surprised to learn that the other double-ohs hadn't known until recently that Q and James were dating. 006 had known the day after it happened. The minions had known before that, having watched James slowly circle the Quartermaster until Q agreed to go on a date. Alec only knew because he'd walked in on them having sex in Q's office. Good times.

Alec whistled as he stepped off the elevator and turned left, heading for the large steel doors that marked Q-branch. As always, Alec chuckled when he looked at the sign that had been taped over the official name-plate;

  
  


**The Land of the Minions**

**Ruled by the Supreme Overlord Q**

  
  


Alec kind of loved the minions. They were weird and quirky and way too smart for their own good. Plus, they fell apart when they didn't have access to caffeine, which was always funny.

It was late, so Q-branch was deserted apart from the night crew, and most of the lights were off, only some lamps shining at various desks. Q's office door was shut but Alec could see light spilling from underneath, as well as the soft glow from the windows.

Alec knocked, because he was a nice bastard, unlike James, but there was no answer. There was a thump, though, and Alec's eyebrows climbed. He pressed his ear against the door, but of course couldn't hear anything. Alec knocked again, but then huffed and went for the door handle. He wasn't bloody well waiting, he wanted a fucking beer, and-

'Well,' Alec said when he'd pushed the door open.

The bright lights were a bit startling after the darkness that was Q branch, and Alec blinked rapidly. He still saw them, though; Q, bent over his desk, James behind him, the two staring at him. James didn't look all that bothered- though a bit annoyed that his best friend was seeing Q naked- and Q looked like he wanted to melt into the floor.

'Well,' Alec repeated, 'this brings back memories, eh?'

'ALEC!' Q shouted.

'Give us an hour?' James asked.

'Sure,' Alec nodded, grinning widely. 'Hey, did you know that the other double-ohs only _just_ figured out that you two are shagging?'

James frowned. 'Really?'

'James!' Q hissed. And then, ' _ALEC_!'

'Right, going!' Alec waved a hand. 'James, drinks when you're done?'

'Sorry, not tonight,' James grinned and rolled his hips. Q stifled a groan, his face bright red. 'Tomorrow night?'

'Right-o,' Alec said. 'Have fun, Q.'

'I hate you both!' Q snarled as Alec shut the door. Alec heard him moan a split second later.

Alec laughed and headed back through Q-branch. He'd just drink at home, he guessed. Or break into James and Q's flat and steal their alcohol. Then again, the last time he'd done that he was hosed with a fire extinguisher and covered in glitter. Q's security system was really weird.

But then again, that was half the fun.

  
  


  
  


**007**

  
  


'I hate you,' Q panted.

James chuckled. 'I know I'm your favourite,' he said. He'd been thinking about it since Alec had left... you know, in-between losing himself in Q's body.

'And how's that?' Q asked.

James smiled and leaned over to bite Q's neck, making the genius shiver. 'I get to make you tea, and bring you food, and flirt with you, and ruin half my equipment with only mild scolding.' He bit again, and Q breathed out heavily.

'Uh... uh-huh,' was all the Quartermaster got out.

'I also get to play with your toys and get special ones made just for me,' James continued. 'And there's the office sex.'

'Mm,' Q hummed, tilting his head to give James better access.

'But there was one moment that told me I was your favourite.'

'What was that?' Q mumbled.

James leaned up to press a kiss to Q's ear. 'You told me your real name,' he breathed, 'when even Eve doesn't know it.'

'Uh...' Q swallowed, 'yes, that probably did it.' James chuckled and Q turned to face him, hazel eyes bright. James raised an eyebrow. 'Ready for round two?' Q asked, his grin cheeky. 'Or do you need a minute?'

'I'll show you a minute,' James growled and pounced.

Q laughed, and then gasped. 'James!'

'Mm?'

'Fuck me!' Q ordered.

James kissed him. 'It would be my pleasure.' He paused to run his tongue over Q's ear, and the younger man shivered again. ' _Matthew_ ,' James finished with a kiss.

  
  


{THE END}

 

**Author's Note:**

>  **Author's Note:** Um... whelp, there's that. Just had the idea, wrote it, edited it, posted it. If it sucks, that's why; wrote the thing in twenty minutes. If you enjoyed, awesome. If you didn't, leave your flames at the door. We don't take too kindly to them kind 'round here.
> 
> Cheers,
> 
> {IBegToDreamAndDiffer}


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